


That's What She Said

by satonawall



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satonawall/pseuds/satonawall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana just said she didn’t want to go to Madam Puddifoot’s with Brittany. Maybe that’s not all Brittany heard, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What She Said

“God no!” Santana braced herself on her elbows, raising her eyebrow at Brittany. “Why on earth would you even want to go there?”

Brittany was biting her lip and looking away from Santana. “It was just an idea. Everyone else always goes there and they seem to have fun.”

“That’s because they’ve been brainwashed by I don’t even want to know what.” Santana sat up straight, shaking her head. “We’re not wasting our time going to Madam Puddifoot’s this weekend, believe me. I’ve got so much better things to do.”

Brittany pouted and reached for her Care of Magical Creatures textbook, starting to read and resolutely ignoring Santana even as Santana began braiding her hair and talking about the ridiculous diva fit Rachel Berry had thrown in potions.

She left half an hour later, all her attempts to get Brittany to say a word back to her having failed.

“By the way,” she said just before she closed the dorm door after herself, “that book’s upside down.”

—-

She didn’t see Brittany at all on Sunday and while she’d been introduced to the guardian portrait of the Hufflepuff common room for years, it didn’t feel right to barge in there when she was pretty sure Brittany was mad at her.

Then again, it didn’t feel right to know that Brittany was mad at her, so Santana took great pleasure in yelling at anyone who came into her field of vision as she sulked in front of the fire place in her own common room.

—-

On Monday, she caught up with Brittany on the way to the greenhouses.

“Sorry I don’t want to go to that place with you,” she said. “I didn’t realise it was such a huge deal.”

Brittany held onto her books a little tighter, her shoulders hunching. “It isn’t.”

“Cool, then.” Santana straightened her tie. “Want to volunteer to take the starthistles out after class again?”

It was an easy job, and volunteering always meant goodwill from the teachers. Plus, no one ever went behind greenhouse number seven, so it was a great place to make out in secret.

“I don’t think so,” Brittany said and quickened her pace, catching up with Tina before Santana could even say anything in reply.

—-

“Have you ever been to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Room?” she asked Kurt Tuesday evening after trying and absolutely failing to get Brittany to stop trying to turn the needle back into a match.

Kurt turned up his nose. “I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”

“I have,” Rachel said dreamily. “It’s such a-“

“It reminds you of your room back home, we’ve heard,” Santana interrupted her, turning back to Kurt. “It’s gross, right?”

“There’s enough pink and frills to make Rachel excited,” Kurt said like it was an answer, which it was. “And Tina told me that the tea sucks and the cakes are dry, so what’s the point of going there when you can have way better food pretty much anywhere else?”

“Exactly,” Santana said to no one.

—-

Wednesday evening, Brittany had Quidditch practice, and Santana watched like she’d done for the past four years, ever since Brittany had hexed that poor guy who’d accused her of being a ‘Slytherin spy’.

It was difficult to say because she was simultaneously trying to follow Brittany’s movements and pretend she was reading a book, but it seemed to her that Brittany paid a lot more attention to her than to the Quaffle.

Considering that she’d spent all day before that jumping on the moving stairs every time she saw Santana approach her, that was more than a little weird.

—-

In her Thursday afternoon Defence against the Dark Arts class, Blaine sat next to her wearing his stupid Hufflepuff bowtie that Santana was absolutely sure was against the dress code and would have already complained about to staff if it wasn’t for all the potential blackmail material Kurt had on her.

“Brittany wanted me to ask you if she can still borrow your owl to send her sister a birthday present.”

Santana almost cursed him there and then. She only refrained from it because it wasn’t actually Blaine she wanted to curse, it was the whole universe, if only she’d known how to do that.

“You can tell her I’m not the one who’s been avoiding her,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

Blaine said something about that sounding like a yes, but luckily the professor demanded their attention before his concerned and earnest look could transform into some of his trademark uplifting advice.

—-

Friday, however, was the last straw.

She didn’t see Brittany at breakfast or lunch (a small voice at the back of her head whispered that maybe that had been Brittany’s intention) and Brittany arrived almost late for their Charms lesson, sitting down on the opposite side of the room from Santana and their usual desks.

That alone might have done the trick, but what really brought Santana to the breaking point was who sat on the chair next to Brittany’s.

She’d never have thought she’d see the day when Brittany would prefer the company of Rick the fucking Stick to hers.

“Okay,” she said as she cornered Brittany after the class, “I’ll go to that stupid tea room with you if it’s so damn-“

Brittany blinked, her lower lip protruding and her eyes avoiding Santana.

“If you don’t want to go, I really don’t want to.”

“Then why,” Santana tried to hold on to the remnants of her anger and frustration; she could never stay angry when faced with sad Brittany, and being angry made her feel better about the whole situation, “have you been avoiding me? It’s a really lame place, we should go somewhere else. I thought I made that pretty clear.”

“It’s only lame because couples who go there are so happy with each other they don’t realise the tea sucks.” Brittany bit her lip and looked a lot like she was trying to find a route past Santana.

“Kurt said that Tina said that the cakes also-“ Santana stopped, realising what Brittany had said. “Brittany, why do you want to go there?”

“I already told you,” Brittany said. “Everyone who goes there always-“

“Seems to have fun, yeah. People have a lot of fun at the Three Broomsticks, too. Why Madam Puddifoot’s specifically?”

Brittany crossed her arms as if trying to defend herself against- Santana didn’t know what. But she was starting to have an idea.

“I like cleaning cobwebs off of broom closets with you,” Brittany said to Santana’s left arm, “and making out against the greenhouses and stuff, but I thought that it would be fun to see if being with you would make all the pink look less tacky and annoying.” She hugged her arms closer. “But if you don’t even want to go out out with me, I don’t think I like the broom closets as much.”

Santana didn’t know which feeling was stronger, the sudden horror at realising how she must have made Brittany feel all week or the elation that she could fix it.

“Brittany,” she said, stepping a little closer but keeping a few inches between them anyway, “I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t want to go on a date to Hogsmeade with you. I just meant that Madam Puddifoot’s is a lousy place to go and we should go somewhere else.”

Brittany blinked, finally looking at Santana like she couldn’t quite dare to hope that she’d actually heard correctly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” She reached for Brittany’s hand and was glad to see that Brittany seemed all too happy to release her arms and hold on to Santana’s hand. “I never meant to make you feel like I only wanted to secretly make out with you and not do anything else.”

“That would explain why it’s such a badly kept secret.” Brittany smiled at her. “I think Blaine knows because he figured it out and because Kurt told him. And I’m pretty sure Rachel told everyone because she’s Rachel.”

Santana smiled back, squeezing Brittany’s hand. “Want to plot out some kind of revenge on her?” she asked. “Like tomorrow at Hogsmeade over butterbeers?

Brittany ducked her head, but this time, there was a slight blush on her cheeks and Santana could see her smile.

“I’d like that.” She looked up. “Do you want to go clean a broom closet? I think some of them might have got quite dirty this week.”

She kind of wanted to say yes, but what she wanted even more was to put all of Brittany’s doubts to rest for good.

“Actually,” she said, “I was wondering if you’d accompany me to dinner. We could split a pie, I know you always get tired halfway through.”

Like she’d hoped, Brittany’s eyes sparkled and she almost squealed as they began walking towards the Great Hall, their pinkies linked.


End file.
